Dark Magic
by jennyxbc
Summary: On Haitus
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Gossip Girl or Harry Potter. **

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><p>Another loud scream was heard from behind the thick oak door and a cloaked Lucius Malfoy winced. "It shouldn't be long now," he murmured, glancing at the taller of his two companions. Severus Snape nodded in agreement and let out a puff of breath as a healthy baby's cry broke through the tension that had filled the dark corridor.<p>

The third, silent man studied the door and just for a moment, a hint of a smile hovered around his mouth. It was gone quickly as the woman again began to scream.

Silence fell a few minutes later and a weary looking nurse came out of the room, carrying a wriggling blanketed baby in her arms. She handed the child to its father and let out a sigh. "Two births, sir."

Voldemort studied the baby in his arms, gently cradling her as she stopped crying. He pulled down his hood, exposing his bald head, and pushed back the blankets covering the child's face. The baby's eyes were a very dark brown, so dark they seemed almost black in the candlelight. Her eyes gazed into his and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"The twins came before their time but it has done the girl no harm," the nurse said quietly, wringing her hands.

"A girl," Lucius commented sympathetically. "Just a girl."

"Be careful, Lucius," Voldemort replied coldly, fixing his eyes on the soft black curls on his daughter's head. "Girls have their uses."

"Of course, my Lord," Malfoy said apologetically, taking a step back from his master.

"And the boy?" Voldemort rasped to the nurse, "How is the boy?"

"Stillborn," the woman whispered, "The cord was wrapped around his neck."

Malfoy and Snape glanced at each other in alarm as their master nodded slowly. "And their mother?" Voldemort asked quietly, finally raising his dead eyes to the nurse's brown ones. Her silence gave him his reply and he nodded and closed his eyes, squeezing them together tightly in an unusual show of emotion. He sighed deeply and looked back at the girl in his arms.

The nurse wrung her hands and bit her lip. "With your permission Sirs... Her young eyes have witnessed death. The death of her _mother_. Such things can be damaging, even to a child her age..."

Snape rudely cut her off. "You mean to say that the girl will be affected by seeing her mother die? She was not ten minutes old. She cannot possibly be damaged by that." The nurse nodded submissively and raised her hands in apology.

"Her mother wanted her to be named 'Blair'. She hoped her to be a beacon of light in the world of darkness that I have chosen to reside in," Voldemort said emotionlessly, gazing at the child. "Blair Charis Waldorf: a powerful name for a powerful child. She will be raised by her mother's sister and her husband. They are pure-blood and will ensure that she receives a magical education befitting her station. It would damage her upbringing to be associated with this world. With _my_ world." He handed the child back to the nurse and pressed a gold ring with an ample sized ruby nestled in the centre into the baby's tiny hands. "This was her mother's. See that she wears it when she is old enough."

He turned and wordlessly walked away, unwilling to get too attached to the baby. If she was to become what he needed her to be, love was too much of a risk.

Snape and Malfoy offered half smiles at the nurse before scurrying worriedly after him.

* * *

><p><strong>Sixteen years later...<strong>

Blair glanced up at the train disdainfully, wrinkling her nose in disgust as the large red machine let out another puff of grey smoke. She glanced back at her Aunt Eleanor and Uncle Cyrus and her cousins, Georgetta and Cybill and pulled a face as she watched them embrace each other.

"Promise us you'll write, B?" Cybill said mournfully, clutching her sister's hand.

"I promise," Blair replied with a smile. "I'll miss you. All of you."

It was almost like they were in mourning. Blair rolled her eyes and called a final goodbye, hugging her house elf Dorota tightly. "Look after them. Please," Blair whispered quietly, smiling as the tiny Dorota leaned up and kissed her on the cheek.

"Yes, Miss Blair. Dorota will miss you, Miss Blair."

Blair smirked at her beloved house elf and waved goodbye to her family, pulling off her Chanel sunglasses and boarding the Hogwarts Express. She was almost knocked over by a tall red haired boy carrying an armful of carbohydrate and fat-filled food.

"Would you watch where you're going?" She said immediately, dusting crumbs off of her designer robe. She looked him up and down and smirked when he attempted to neaten his appearance.

Her scrutiny made him blush and he opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by another female voice. "Ron, where on earth- Oh. Who's this then?" The voice spoke in the 'Queen's English', a dialect Blair knew was dying in England.

She turned and gazed at the girl behind her, holding back a snort as she appraised the girl's frizzy hair and decidedly 'natural' appearance. The short, brown haired girl thrust out an awkward hand and gave Blair a tight smile. "Hello... I'm Hermione. Are you new? I haven't seen you before. I'll show you where the first years go."

"Actually, I'm not a first year, I'm transferring into Hogwarts' sixth year from another school," Blair said politely.

Hermione nodded. "We're sixth years too. And prefects." She subconsciously stood up a little straighter and nudged Ron in frustration, who was staring at the swell of Blair's breasts beneath her scoop-neck dress.

"If you'd be kind enough to show me to the Professor's carriage, I'm supposed to wait there for Professor Snape. He knows that I'm coming," Blair replied, smiling tightly at the red-haired boy.

With that, Blair and Hermione set off down the train, the latter offering the former mumbled information about the school.

The noise of a carriage door sliding open startled Hermione and a stout plain girl with a ruddy complexion and short black hair stepped out and sneered. "Hello, Granger. You're looking as... _frizzy _as ever." A chorus of chuckles came from inside the compartment and Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Bugger off, Bulstrode. I'm not in the mood," Hermione answered tiredly, making a gesture to usher Millicent out of the way. Millicent, however, was in no mood to cooperate, and pulled the compartment doors closed, trapping Hermione against the wall.

"Touchy touchy. Is Weasel not keeping you satisfied?" She ribbed cruelly, and Hermione went red. Blair had heard enough and stepped between the two girls.

She was smaller than 'Bulstrode', and probably weighed half as less, but even in her shorter height and leaner body, Millicent found that this new girl was quite intimidating. "I do believe she asked you to move," Blair said stonily.

Millicent smirked at Blair. "You're a cheeky one, aren't you? You'll soon learn your place here if you insist on going 'round with Mudbloods like her."

"As long as that place is away from you and the disgusting perfume that you're wearing, I really don't care," Blair remarked conversationally, raising an eyebrow. "If you'll excuse us, I'm going to be late."

Millicent glared between Blair and Hermione, choosing to blame Hermione for the other girl's insult. "Better keep her in line, Granger, or you'll be the one who suffers the consequences."

Blair scoffed in disbelief. "You really need to learn some manners. Now, please move out of the way."

Millicent shifted in the corridor so that she was completely blocking the passage. "Bugger off." She grinned, impressed with her own bravado, and Blair shook her head in disgust.

"Fine." Before Millicent Bulstrode could blink, Blair had drawn her wand and had given the taller girl ears, a snout, trotters for hands and feet and a curly pig's tail. Hermione blinked at Millicent and then back at Blair, before reopening the compartment doors and shoving Millicent inside, locking the doors behind her with a quick spell.

"Thanks. That was brilliant," Hermione said gratefully, smiling at Blair.

Blair shrugged and sighed. "At least now her appearance matches her personality. Come on; take me to Professor Snape before any other fat girls with pointless vendettas decide to accost you and delay us more. I hate being late, it's inexcusably rude."

Hermione appraised the other girl curiously for a moment, and then nodded. "Fair enough."

...

"... Simply unacceptable... Not even reached the school yet... Millicent is in _my _house... Can't just turn people who annoy you into farm animals..."

When Snape had finished, Blair rolled her eyes. "Perhaps if you taught the people in your house some manners, this wouldn't have happened."

"Miss Waldorf, I am a _teacher_. You cannot speak to me so familiarly," Snape said angrily, much to Blair's amusement. "You will apologise to Miss Bulstrode. Consider yourself lucky that you have not received a more serious punishment."

Blair smiled at him condescendingly. "I'm not going to apologise to a bully. I would rather have a real punishment than do something that I don't agree with. You should understand that more than anyone else."

Snape sighed, defeated. "Fine. Just try and keep out of trouble for the rest of the journey."

"I'm not making any promises," Blair replied with a shrug.

"Just go."

...

Snape told Blair that she was to wait in a private room just off of the Great Hall, the same room where the champions had been sent in the fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament. There she would amuse herself whilst the first years were sorted and then she would be introduced. Snape informed her that Dumbledore knew of her parentage but was unaware that Blair herself knew, and she seemed reasonably satisfied by this. Before Snape left her alone in the room, he pulled up his left sleeve and revealed his Dark Mark.

"Touch it with your wand," he had instructed, his voice unusually quiet. "I have been told to make you touch it when you are secure so that your father becomes aware. Only those loyal to him within a mile or so will feel the burn, and there are only five students in the whole school who have taken the mark. You need not to worry about being exposed so early on."

Blair had sighed and drew her wand, pressing the tip into the skull on Snape's forearm. He hissed with the burn but she pressed harder, gripping his arm tightly until the entire mark was freshly black, her eyes flashing wildly. In that instant, Snape saw her father within her, and all at once realised that his Lord's decade-old plot was finally being carried out. It terrified him.

She dropped Snape's arm and pushed it away from her, like it had bitten her. Blair clapped a hand over her mouth to contain her scream and turned away from Snape. His right hand hovered over her shoulder but he dared not to touch her.

He had been warned that she had a temper like her father, but here was the evidence. Blair hated these moments, the moments when she could feel her father's blood running in her veins, when she could feel his genetic influence on her personality.

Snape hovered uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

"What now?" Blair said in exasperation, rolling her eyes.

"Just be careful who you trust," he replied softly, his expression hard to read.

"Fine. Will you leave now, please?" she whispered, stepping to the window and staring out into what had become a cold, wet night.

"Of course." As Snape opened the door she heard Dumbledore welcome the upper year groups back to Hogwarts and then the nervous footsteps of the first years.

She felt numb. Numb and cold. Blair closed her eyes and leaned her head against the glass, taking even breaths to steady herself.

Eventually she heard the door creak open and sighed, turning to face Dumbledore with a calm look on her face.

"Miss Waldorf, please sit down," Dumbledore instructed in his quiet, gentle voice, offering Blair the comfiest seat whilst he himself took a hard, wooden one. "Before we begin, do you have any questions to ask?" When Blair shook her head, Dumbledore continued. "Salem Institute was very prestigious; all pure-bloods and half-bloods. I can assure you that, here at Hogwarts, we do not discriminate against blood status. I would hope that a student as progressed and intelligent as yourself would not seek to offend somebody by using their heritage as an insult."

Blair shook her head again, adjusting her headband with her manicured fingernails. "Of course not, Professor."

Dumbledore smiled kindly at her. "What has passed has passed. Aside from the incident on the train with Miss Bulstrode, let this be a new beginning for you at Hogwarts. Then let us begin."

Dumbledore exited the room first, announcing her arrival as a transferring student from the Salem Institute in the USA and that she would be sorted (as a first year would) into one of the four houses.

When Blair heard her name mentioned, she took a deep breath and pushed open the wooden door leading onto the stage in the Great Hall. Almost at once the silence was filled with excited appreciative whispers and Blair sighed as she glanced over at the Slytherin table.

..

Draco Malfoy sat in his usual position in between Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson and across from a bandaged Millicent Bulstrode. He was not interested in the Sorting of the first years and only clapped when the other members of his house did. He studied his almost-empty goblet of spiked pumpkin juice and longed for the feast to start so that he could continue with his drinking. The Great Hall was suddenly filled with whispers about the beauty of the girl on the stage.

His Dark Mark burned again for the second time that night, and he looked warily at Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini as they too began to touch their left forearms again. He saw Snape wince and grab his own left forearm as if in great pain, and then noticed that the Professor was staring cautiously at the girl that Dumbledore had presumably been prattling on about.

He glanced up and his breath caught as he watched the girl saunter slowly towards the tall stool in the centre of the stage and sit herself gracefully on it, crossing her legs at the ankles in the way Draco had seen his mother do countless times.

This simple action was a sure sign of good breeding that he had been taught to recognize by his father. The girl twisted her head around and looked directly at Snape, who nodded almost immeasurably back at her. She appeared a little relieved and closed her eyes as if she could finally rest her worries.

Dumbledore quietened the hall and placed the Sorting Hat on her head.

Without even knowing her first name, he knew from the quality of her robes, her delicious arrogance, her smirk, her porcelain skin, and the way that her mere presence demanded attention and respect that she was probably from a long line of powerful pure-bloods. Without taking his eyes from the brunette on the stage, Malfoy muttered a "Who is she?" to Blaise Zabini, who smirked.

"Blair Waldorf. Sixth year transfer from the Salem Institute. She's American. And gorgeous, if I might add," he replied, frowning when Snape let out a loud, conspicuous cough to silence them.

The Waldorf family was descended from one of the Peverell Brothers, of which one Draco was unsure, and had been a formidable family in the wizarding community in the past. They had been linked with Death Eaters and their home was even used by Voldemort himself as a stronghold before he fell from power. However, for the past twenty years or so, neither hide nor hair had been heard from any of them. Until now.

Meanwhile, the Sorting Hat was suspiciously silent, as was Blair, though inside Blair's mind the two were having a loud argument over which house she would be placed into.

"_I tell you, girl, I will not put another of your blood line into Slytherin."_

_Blair mentally shrieked in frustration. "My blood line is nothing to do with me. I did not choose my parents!" _

"_Be that as it may, it is too dangerous," the Sorting Hat argued back, showing Blair an image of what her father had done whilst at the school. Blair inwardly winced but protested again._

"_I am not my father. I am Blair Charis Waldorf. I may share his blood but I do not share his nature or his name. I am also half of my mother, who was a good and decent woman. She cannot be blamed for falling in love. I am not my father. I am not a bloodthirsty prejudiced monster, and would appreciate it if I could be judged as an individual student as you have judged others. Dumbledore knows who my father is and he knows who my mother is. You have no right to place me in the wrong house. You _know_ that I should be in Slytherin."_

In her mind, the Sorting Hat did not disagree, and Blair knew she had triumphed.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Only Draco noticed the flicker of worry that settled on Dumbledore for no longer than a couple of seconds, and frowned as he saw a smirk form on Blair's lips. It was a dangerous smirk, a smirk of victory, and Draco's frown deepened into an uneasy scowl until her eyes caught his.

In spite of himself, Draco felt his own smirk pull at the edges of his lips and before he had realised what he had done, he had raised his now full goblet, stood up and toasted her, an action which was followed by the rest of Slytherin. It was almost as if the whole house was compelled by her, as if they felt they had no choice but to honour her. Draco decided to make a mental note of that and consider it at another time. By this time, Blair was sitting at the Slytherin table between Pansy and Daphne, her own goblet raised and inclined towards Draco in thanks, her dark enchanting eyes falling on him again.

This time, however, they were cool, appraising. She looked him up and down and dismissed him in a single glance, and Draco sat dazedly back into his seat. He folded his arms on the table and rested his head in them, and Blaise smirked.

"Blue balls already mate?"

Draco glared at him and then groaned admittedly. "I want her."

Blaise laughed. "Doubt you'll succeed in that one. _Look at her_. She's obviously a prudish virgin."

"The virgin part I may agree with. But she's not a prude. _You_ look at her, Zabini. Her eyes; her lips, her _figure_. She'll be mine before Halloween."

"Fifty galleons say you won't," Zabini argued, seizing any opportunity to make money.

Draco gazed at his friend cautiously before holding out his hand. "Make it Christmas and you have a deal. I have a feeling she might be hard to crack."

"Done." Zabini reached out and shook Malfoys hand, clapping his friend on the back.

...

**I love reviews!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own Gossip Girl or Harry Potter.**

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><p>Blair waited until she heard the clock chime 2am and then climbed out of her bed. It was her second night at Hogwarts, and her classes started later that day, at the wonderful hour of 9am.<p>

Her snake, Pandora, flicked her tongue against the glass of the tank and Blair smiled. She slid the lid of the tank open and Pandora wrapped herself around her left wrist, like a thick bracelet.

Pandora had been a gift from her father for her 14th birthday. The green viper had been small and thin at the time, but was now at least six feet long and as thick as an arm. When she had first been given the snake, Blair thought her an odd, rather disturbing gift.

She couldn't _play_ with Pandora, or _read_ her, and she daren't use magic on the snake because she had been a gift. Blair discovered that she could talk to the snake and that the snake could talk back – she had considered this reasonably normal until her Aunt Eleanor had overheard her whispering in a strange language and only then had Blair realised that talking to snakes was most definitely _not_ normal.

Her Aunt Eleanor had understandably informed her father, who had been thrilled, and it was only many months later that Blair figured out that Pandora had been given to her so that her father could figure out if she had Parslemouth abilities. She had been disappointed and angry and had cursed her best friend so badly that Serena had been purple for a month.

...

She pulled on her robe over her nightgown, leaving the left sleeve gathered around her elbow and grabbed her wand, tiptoeing out of the room she shared with Pansy and Daphne and closed the door silently behind her.

She pawed her way out of the common room and winced as the door to the dungeons closed with a heavy thud. Blair took a couple of steps and let out a panicked squeak when she heard the door to the dungeons open and close again. Composing herself, Blair pointed her wand into the darkness and muttered an illuminating spell. A pair of amused grey eyes came into view, and then she slapped Draco on the shoulder.

"Why are you following me?" Blair asked with a frown, placing a hand on her hip.

"Can't a prefect be concerned about a fellow housemate?" Draco answered innocently, smirking when Blair rolled her eyes. "Why are you out of bed at two in the morning, Newbie?"

"None of your business. And my name is _Blair._"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "It's my business when the new girl goes wandering around the castle at night by herself. I'm Malfoy." Draco extended his left hand and Blair shook it with a roll of her eyes. She was nothing if not polite.

"Whatever. I'm leaving now."

Draco reached out his left hand and grabbed Blair's arm. "I can't let you do that, Waldorf," he murmured quietly, his eyes widening when Blair glanced down at his arm. There, black and pulsing, was the Dark Mark. Malfoy withdrew his arm and covered the mark with his right hand, avoiding Blair's eyes.

"You're a Death Eater?" Blair asked in a whisper, reaching out to touch the Mark. Draco took a step backwards and frowned.

"None of your business," he replied, his eyes clearly displaying his amusement.

"Touché," Blair countered with a roll of her eyes. "Did it hurt you? Taking the mark, I mean." Draco shrugged off the question and Blair raised an eyebrow at him disapprovingly. "And there I was thinking that all English pure-bloods would have been raised with the manners and graces correct to their breeding. Apparently not."

Malfoy smirked wolfishly back at her. "Manners are for high-society balls, eastern European people and meeting the parents of your future wife, not conversations in the dark with questionable _American_ teenage girls."

"I'm not American. For your information, I was born in France," Blair replied haughtily.

"If it walks like a yank and talks like a yank," Malfoy smirked teasingly in return.

Blair exhaled a frustrated breath. "As much as I get the whole 'prefect on a power trip' thing, can't it wait until tomorrow? I had to be somewhere five minutes ago and you're in my way." Draco shrugged again and Blair pointed her wand at him.

Malfoy guffawed . "You wouldn't dare."

"Move."

"No," Draco replied with a smirk.

Blair's eyes flashed dangerously. "I said _move."_

"What could you possibly do to me if I refused again?" Draco barked out a quiet laugh at the look on Blair's frustrated face.

Blair folded her arms across her chest. "Whilst I'm very glad that I amuse you, you've made me late. I have to go now."

"I'm not letting you walk around this castle alone at night on your first night here," Draco insisted, stepping in front of her. "It's too dangerous," he continued, frowning when he saw Blair roll her eyes in the wandlight. Pandora chose this moment to hiss threateningly at him and Draco took a wary step forwards, eyeing the snake out of the corner of his eye.

"What will it take to make you leave me _alone?" _Blair hissed, shoving Draco away from her and walking in the opposite direction.

"Take me with you," Draco murmured. "And that's the way back to the common room."

"I know that, genius. There is no way that I am taking you with me, so I'm going to have a tumbler of gin and go to bed," the brunette replied condescendingly, not even turning around to look at him.

Draco was suspicious. "How do I know that you won't just dash out the moment that I return to my dormitory, Waldorf?"

Blair frowned. "It's too late to bother now. Punctuality is very important where I come from. If this were America, I'd sue you for wasting my time." She muttered the password and stepped back into the Slytherin common room, wincing as her breath came out in a cloud and a shiver ran down her spine. Her bare legs immediately goose-pimpled and Blair wrapped her silk dressing gown more tightly around herself. "Does it have to be so _freezing_ down here?" She said to herself in the dark room as she sat down on one of the leather couches. "This is ridiculous."

Draco chuckled and took his robe off of his shoulders and draped it around hers, making sure to avoid touching the snake curled comfortably around her arm. It buried her. He expected her to throw it off but she put her arms through the sleeves and tucked herself inside it. "The Slytherin common room is directly under the Black Lake. The dormitories are in the northern bank, closest to the castle. The windows in your room look out into the lake, that's why it's permanently dark and chilly down here. Dumbledore keeps the place warm and cosy during the winter, not so much in the summer. There are fireplaces in every bedroom, and almost all of them are Floo-able."

Blair nodded politely. "I know."

"Snape uses student fire places all the time to Floo into Hogsmeade or Malfoy Mansion, to see the Da-" Draco stopped mid word as he saw Blair's eyes widen. It was obvious that they both knew exactly what Draco was about to say but neither of them completed his sentence. Changing the subject, Draco said, "I thought there was going to be gin?"

Blair sighed and closed her eyes for a couple of seconds, her wand deep in her robes, and a bottle of gin came zooming towards her from the direction of her bedroom.

"Wandless magic? Impressive," Draco remarked passively, as if what he had just seen had was not a very rare and incredible gift that could only be inherited by a parent.

Blair silently poured Draco his own tumbler, knocking her own back and then refilling it with the clear liquid. "My aunt Eleanor used to give this to me and my cousin Georgetta when we were teething. Used to send us right off to sleep. Then my father found out and was outraged that his sister in law was giving alcohol to his precious daughter, the same sister in law who was raising said daughter because he was too busy and '_important'_ to be stuck with a baby." Draco detected a familiar sense of anger underlying Blair's conversational tone.

"My dad's like that too. The _Great Lucius Malfoy_, who offered up his family home and his own bedroom for the comfort of his 'master," Draco agreed bitterly, indicating that he would like another tumbler of gin. Blair refilled it and smirked at him.

"I propose a toast to lousy dads and making interesting new acquaintances," she said with a jovial wink, which Malfoy returned. The two clinked their glass tumblers together and shared a dark smirk in the cold room. "You're not so bad, Malfoy, when you're not stalking me."

"I was not stalking you. I was concerned," he protested half-heartedly, and the line sounded false even to his own ears.

"I hope your skills in deception are more advanced when it comes to concealing whatever it is that you're trying to do in the room on the Seventh floor," Blair replied with a smirk, and Draco's breath caught.

"How did you know that?"

Blair shrugged. "I know a lot of things."

"I'm tired," he groaned, attempting to change the subject.

Blair raised an eyebrow. "Then go back to bed. Nobody asked you to follow me."

"Only if you go to bed with me," Draco answered, unaware for once at the innuendo in his words.

"I'll go to bed with you when you learn some manners."

It took Malfoy a moment to understand what Blair had just said. He broke out into a chuckle and patted her on the shoulder. She brushed his hand off. "I'm a lady, not a dog."

"But you didn't say 'no'," Draco replied gleefully.

She walked up the stairs to her bedroom turned back to look at him, smiling genuinely for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts. "Goodnight, Draco," she whispered coyly, waggling her fingers when she realised he was watching her walk away.

"Goodnight, Blair," He replied, appreciating her figure wrapped inside his robe. The chemistry between the two was thick and both could feel it, unaware of when and where it had materialized from.

Unbeknownst to them, Millicent Bulstrode was watching from the entrance to her dormitory and shivered as a disturbing sense of foreboding settled in the air as Draco and Blair parted ways.

...

Draco was awake early the next morning and was down in the common room before most of the others. There were a few of panicky first years and a handful of seventh years that were busy preparing for their morning classes, but he was the only sixth year.

He plonked himself down in his usual chair by the fire, taking a deep breath when he saw Blair walking down the stairs to the common room with Pansy and Daphne. She was pale and had dark rings under her eyes, but she looked beautiful. Her hair was straight and fell alluringly around her face and shoulders, the longer locks reaching her waist. Their eyes met and she nodded at him politely, a nod which he returned with a smirk.

She looked away, and Draco's heart beat faster as he saw her fight a smile.

* * *

><p>Blair's magical ability was astounding.<p>

She didn't need her wand or her voice to do even the most complicated of spells, and rather than being proud the Professors as a collective became worried at the obvious skill of the Dark Lord's only child.

Draco was awed by her power. Blair was particularly incredible in the Dark Arts, often taking on Harry Potter himself in their classes and being the successor 70% of the time. Such skill with a wand made her exceedingly popular, and the Slytherins flocked around her like vultures circling a carcass.

Even Harry himself was impressed by her, and asked her for help more than once.

...

After their meeting in the common room, Blair easily found herself attracted to Draco. He was dark and dangerous and _odd_ and he intrigued her. His thin cruel mouth and silver eyes haunted her dreams in the best of ways.

It was a dark October night when Blair's curiosity finally got the better of her. Draco had been skipping almost every meal, appearing only at breakfast and the odd dinner, but forgoing lunch all together.

Draco had once been one of those people who enjoyed having minions, having others to do his dirty work, and now he found himself having to do his own he had become distant from those that he had once called his friends. Blair had simply filled his space, becoming the centre of attention, the 'one in charge', the leader. To Blair, this was a bad sign. A leader only gives up their position at the top as a consequence to three things: a hostile takeover, an amicable takeover, or when things become so complicated and absolutely overwhelming in one's personal life that they do not even realise that the takeover is happening. In Draco's case, it was the latter, and this made Blair wary – concerned, almost.

Blair had made room for Draco beside her and the group of usually talkative Slytherins ate in a tense silence until Blair coughed to distract the group and all eyes fell on her, rather than Draco as they had been.

"So... I was thinking. Party in the common room? On Friday?"

Pansy nodded eagerly. "Yes! Absolutely!"

Even Draco smiled a rare half smile. "Yes," he said simply, his gaze returning to his food. Blair looked at him, her dark eyes appraising the angry purple circles beneath his eyes – a sure sign of sleep deprivation. His cheekbones were sharp and his skin was so pale it was almost translucent. He was going through incredible hardship – that much was obvious – but Blair wanted to help.

And so, when Draco had finished his food and made his usual hasty exit, Blair excused herself and discreetly followed him.

Hiding behind a suit of armour, Blair held her breath as Draco turned around for the third time.

"I know you're there," he said feebly, the fear evident in his voice. "Come out. Come out _now_."

She stayed where she was and he began to walk again. She slipped herself out from behind the metal and gasped as she found herself pressed against the wall by his wand. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing_, _Waldorf?" he snarled at her, and she stared coolly back at him.

She shoved him away from her and frowned. "You really do need to learn some manners, you know," she said simply, carrying on ahead of him. She stopped in front of the Room of Requirement and folded her arms. "Come on then. Let me in."

Draco stared at her in disbelief. "You must be joking."

"Let me in or I'll sit here and make a scene and let everybody know just what exactly I think you're up to inside that dirty cluttered hovel of a room."

"You wouldn't dare," Draco murmured darkly, glaring at her when she raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure about that?"

Draco seemed to give up in front of her eyes. "Fine," he replied with a sigh. He walked to where she was stood and closed his eyes, opening one warily to see if the door had appeared. It had, and Blair was already inside. "Don't touch _anything_," he muttered warningly, pointing a finger at her to emphasise his point.

"Yes sir," Blair replied, saluting him mockingly and smirking.

Draco found himself smirking back at her, and was shocked to realise that it was his first real smirk in over a month.

"So... what're you doing up here?" Blair asked, lifting the lid on a chest and peering inside, wrinkling her nose when dust coated her fingers.

"Working."

"For who?" She questioned, wincing when a metal helmet dropped to the floor. "Oops."

Draco frowned at her and indicated towards a large cabinet. He opened it and sighed tiredly when he saw half an apple inside. "It's hopeless."

"What exactly are you trying to do?"

"This cabinet has a sister in a shop in London. The two form a passage, a corridor, and I'm trying to open both doors into the corridor so that things can pass from the cabinet in London to the cabinet here," Draco explained simply, glaring at the apple for a moment before picking it up and throwing it into a far corner of the room.

Blair nodded in realisation. "You're trying to get something, or some_one_, into the castle."

"Yes."

"Death Eaters?"

Draco glanced at her and sighed. "Yes."

"You don't seem very happy about that," Blair commented quietly, biting her lip.

"I never thought I'd be like this!" Draco said suddenly, "I never thought I'd be _one of them_! I thought I'd be concentrating on a future at the ministry and working with my father, I never imagined that-"

"Then don't think," Blair replied simply, shrugging her shoulders.

"What?"

"_Don't think_," she repeated, her voice filled with a vigour that hadn't been there before. "Don't _fucking _think. Because when you think, you realize how fucked up everything really is. You realized you don't know how you got where you are, you don't know where you're going, and you don't know what to do anymore. If you think about where you 'should' have been, you realise that you're so far off the track that you're in the middle of nowhere with absolutely no direction... you realise that you're lost and alone and confused, with no way back to the straight and narrow... and it hurts." By the end of her little 'speech', her voice was a bitter whisper and her eyes were sad.

"Are you... alright?" Draco asked awkwardly, avoiding her eyes.

"I'm _fine_," she snapped back, embarrassed and blushing.

"OK..."

Blair looked around and spied a stool that had been thrown onto a pile of stuff. She 'accio-ed' it and sat down, crossing her ankles neatly as she glanced up at Draco. "So why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" Draco said tiredly, staring despairingly at the cabinet.

"What possible reason could _Lord Voldemort_ have to want you to get his minions into Hogwarts?" She continued distastefully, studying her nails.

"Don't say his name," Draco hissed at her.

She held her hands up in sarcastic apology and rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry... I didn't realise that you were such a _fanatical follower_, Malfoy."

Draco sighed. "I'm not. His name gets to me. It's a reminder of what he's making me do..."

"Which is?" Blair pressed, her inner gossip queen awaking and rubbing her hands in delight.

"I can't say," Draco whispered, his voice sad and broken.

"Sure you can."

Draco leaned back against the cabinet and closed his eyes. "I _can't_."

Blair got up from the chair and went to stand in front of him, suddenly feeling a surge of pity for the boy before her. She touched his face and gasped as the intensity in his gleaming silver eyes took her breath away. "You can trust me," she whispered, her pointer and middle fingers grazing two soft lines from his ear to his chin across his cheek. "Trust me. Please."

"I _can't_," Draco repeated in a strangled voice. "I can't tell you."

Blair gazed at him and bit her lip. "Then show me."

"Pardon me?"

"Show me what you have to do, Malfoy."

Draco seemed to consider this, and then he nodded. Blair stepped away from him as he drew his wand and mumbled a spell, conjuring a mouse from thin air. He placed it on the floor and closed his eyes, a treacherous tear leaking from the corner of an eye and rolling slowly and deliberately down his cheek.

He pointed his wand at the mouse, his eyes still closed. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

The mouse squeaked in pain but didn't die, and Draco let out a soft sob when he finally opened his eyes. "I can't do it," he mumbled, hating himself for showing weakness.

"You have to mean it," Blair whispered, avoiding his gaze. "You can't just say it and expect it to work. You have to mean it." She pointed her own wand at the little mouse and stared at it, her eyes cold and empty. "_Avada Kedavra!"_

There was a flash of green and the mouse stopped moving. Blair turned away from Draco and buried her wand deep in her robes. She sat down on the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees. She looked small and vulnerable and Draco felt an overwhelming urge to make her feel better.

He sat down beside her, leaning against the cabinet, but it was Blair who spoke first. Her voice was quiet and distant.

"You have to do _that_ to somebody?" she said in understanding, her eyes finally finding Draco's.

"Yes," he replied. "Dumbledore."

Blair's mouth fell open. "The _Headmaster?"_

"Yes." Draco's voice was clipped.

"That's suicide."

Draco glared at her. "You don't think I know that? Why do you think _I_ was selected for this? I didn't exactly _volunteer_. I was_ chosen_ by the Dark Lord because my wonderful _father_ pissed him off last year. I'm supposed to be honoured."

Blair rolled her eyes in agreement with Draco. "I'll bet your parents are thrilled."

Draco sighed and picked up a nearby silver goblet, throwing it angrily at a pile of junk opposite them. "Oh yes. Their only child has been handpicked to kill the only wizard that the Dark Lord himself fears. I'm sure they're bloody chuffed. This is what my father has always wanted for me... This kind of opportunity will 'make me', he says. You don't know what it's like. To constantly feel like you're not good enough, like you're this incredible disappointment, knowing that your only real use is to make your family more powerful."

Blair laughed bitterly. "Don't I? Since I was born, I've seen my father a grand total of 34 times. He used to visit me a lot when I was a baby, and then when I was two and a half he just disappeared. _Vanished_ into thin air. But I'd still get gifts for my birthday and Christmas from him, questionable as they were... and sometimes he'd write me letters, but up until I was 11 I had no idea what he looked like. I was reading a book and this strange guy apparated into my bedroom. He pointed his wand at me and told me not to scream or he'd kill me. And then he took off this stupid hat and there was my dad's face... right there on the back of his head. After that he started to contact me more."

"I never would've expected that. You seem so... _collected_."

"You don't even know me," Blair whispered brokenly. "People think that I've had this perfect upbringing because I'm glamorous and American. They think I've got this wonderful, cereal packet, pure-blood family that love me and care about me. People don't even ask. They just _assume. _Why is that?"

Draco looked puzzled. "I don't follow."

"I grew up in New England, with my Aunt Eleanor and her husband, Cyrus. I love them a lot, Eleanor and Cyrus, but it's hard not to feel unworthy when your loving father deems himself too busy to raise you and pawns the responsibility off to somebody else."

"What about your mother?" the blonde boy asked in reply.

"She died when I was born. My father, wonderful individual that he is, decided that he was in no fit position to raise a child and left the responsibility with my mother's sister," Blair said with a sniff.

"My father paid no attention to my upbringing. I understand that more than you think," he offered with a small smile.

"_Do _you? Do you _really?_" Blair replied, suddenly angry. "My father raised me to be a killer. Trained me to be a _weapon_ in his _arsenal_. I've been trained in Occlumency and Legilimency since I was old enough to speak. For my fifth birthday, my father sent me four things: a 2,485 page book with every single dark curse known to the wizarding world, a 'Hand of Glory', a wand, and a voodoo doll. He wasn't even in my life and he still managed to control it."

"Really?"

Blair nodded and sighed. "I was told to learn the contents of the book and practice them on anything I could. My brain was filled with Dark magic, magic that caused my Aunt Eleanor to fear me and my Uncle Cyrus to avoid me. I wasn't allowed to play with their children in case I accidentally hurt them. I was given the wand of one of my father's dead friends to practice my spells and by the time I was nine, I was as knowledgeable in magic as any sixteen year old would be. I didn't even need to speak an incantation, and the majority of the time I don't need a wand, either. I would sit in my room and I would ask 'Why do I have to read this book when I could be playing with my dolls?' and it was as if they couldn't physically tell me. Like the words got stuck in their throats."

"Unbreakable vows?" Draco asked, and Blair nodded again.

"More than likely," she whispered in reply. "I wasn't allowed to know anything. I just had to get on with it. Do as I was told. One day I got so frustrated with my life that I almost killed a boy. It was a complete accident, but the boy ended up in hospital because of what I did. I was horrified. And you know what? When my father found out, he actually rewarded me. Rewarded me for almost fatally hurting a Muggle. He said it showed 'great potential' that I was able to do such a thing."

Draco winced. "He sounds a bit of a git."

"I can't bring myself to be ashamed of hurting that boy, you know," she said sadly.

Draco looked a little perturbed. "Why?"

"Because from that day, my father began to act like my _dad_. He started to write to me more, send me gifts that he knew would make me laugh and would pay for my Aunt Eleanor and Uncle Cryus to take me to these amazing places for days out. When I turned fourteen, he sent me Pandora. And that summer, he started to visit me, although the first time he apparated into my bedroom I hexed him because he looked like a freak. He was proud of me for that. Because of what I did to that little boy, my dad offered me love and I took it. I'm not ashamed of it." Blair flushed a little, a smile on her face despite her foul mood. "I love my _dad_. But I hate my_ father _for what he did to my childhood, for how he manipulated me into becoming what he wanted me to be without even being there to see the important events in my life. I see them as two different people and I've become extremely skilled in keeping them as separate entities in my mind. My _dad_ would never hurt me the way my _father_ did."

"Couldn't your Aunt and Uncle have stopped him from doing what he did?"

Blair barked out a laugh. "Are you kidding? He tortured Cyrus within an inch of his life once when I was fifteen. He made me watch. Said it was good for my constitution."

Draco felt immensely sorry for her. "My dad's like that."

"What? A cruel, manic bastard?"

Draco laughed in spite of himself. "Yeah, I suppose that's one way of putting it."

"Well, I am absolutely sure that _your _father would be thrilled if he knew that you had befriended me, with_ my_ father being who he is."

"And who is that?"

"I can't _physically_ tell you." She gazed at him sadly and reached out, tracing around his Dark Mark with the tips of her fingers. "It would kill me."

Draco pushed a strand of hair back from her face and tucked in behind her ear. "Do I know him?" Blair nodded and sighed.

"My father tortured me before I came here," Blair whispered, rubbing a small scar on her wrist as she shivered at the memory. "Tortured me to _ensure_ that I knew exactly what my task was and how important it was for me to succeed."

"Task? What task?"

Blair paled and covered her mouth.

* * *

><p><strong>Love it? Hate it? Review, please! <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Short chapter this time... But a necessary short chapter!**

**I don't own Harry Potter or Gossip Girl.**

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><p>"Well?" Draco pressed, "What <em>task<em>?"

Blair bit her lip and avoided his eyes. "Draco..."

"Another Unbreakable Vow?"

"No," She sighed. "Just my father's insufferable arrogance."

"Ah. So you _shouldn't_ tell, but you can?"

"I suppose that's one way of putting it, yes," Blair relented with a small smile. "He didn't count on me making friends so quickly. Either that or he assumed I wouldn't have the balls to tell anybody."

"That's quite the risk," Draco said wryly.

Blair shrugged. "Whatever."

Draco twiddled his thumbs and leaned his head back against the cabinet. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Do I have much of a choice?"

"Not really," the blonde boy replied with a smirk.

"Snape," Blair said quietly.

Draco looked puzzled. "What about him?"

Blair struggled for words. "He's one of my father's closest, uh, _acquaintances._"

"He's also a Death Eater," Draco muttered with a scowl.

"He's my cousin," Blair replied softly. "Well, I suppose he's my _mother's_ cousin. His mother was my grandmother's sister. He used to visit me when I was younger. Bring me gifts. Take me for days out. He introduced my mother and father, actually," the brunette murmured, running a hand through her hair. "He's my Godfather."

Draco's mouth opened and closed as his brain considered this. "Severus Snape, our Potions Professor and our Head of House, is your _Godfather_?"

Blair shot him a black look. "Yes."

"He's mine too," Draco offered her with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you going to keep interrupting me or shall I continue?" Blair returned stiffly, hiding a smile when Draco mimed zipping his lips. She closed her eyes. "The Dark Lord found out that Snape has been working as a double agent. Giving information to both sides, if you will... My father sent me here to keep an eye on him, to see just how _much_ information he's giving out about The Dark Lord and his _plans_. The Dark Lord himself told me just how upset he was. He thought Snape a valued friend."

Draco's eyed widened at this and he made to interrupt again, but Blair silenced him with a raised eyebrow.

"Our darling Potions Professor has pissed off a lot of important people. He's pandering to both sides. He knows the location of the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters, and he's the secret keeper of the Dark Lord's stronghold. He could bring everything to its knees if he gave the right information to the right person." Blair bit her lip and glanced at him. "There's something else too."

Draco gestured that she should continue and Blair looked away from his grey eyes.

Blair bit her lip. "I already knew what you were doing in here," she whispered. "My father told me. I just had to be sure of the details."

"Then when did you ask? To test my _loyalty?" _Draco spat, standing up and glaring at her. "You tricked me into telling you."

Blair pulled herself to her feet and her eyes filled with tears. "No... You've got it wrong!"

"You've just told me that you've been put in this castle to keep an eye on the man who is supposed to be helping me!"

"Snape _isn't_ the one who's helping you!" Blair cried, and a tense silence filled the space between them, the only sound was Draco's heavy breathing.

"What?" His voice was a gravelly whisper. "What did you say?"

"Snape isn't helping you," Blair repeated quietly, raising her eyes to his. "He's trying to stop you."

Draco scoffed and let out a bark of laughter. "That's _impossible_! He made an Unbreakable vow to protect me! My Aunt Bella told me!"

Blair wrung her hands. "Then I guess he found a loophole."

"That's not possible!" Draco said with a scornful laugh. "Unbreakable vows are _unbreakable."_

"Draco, think about it... Snape made a vow to protect you. He is absolutely convinced that he is protecting you by _stopping you _from ruining your education. If you get the Death Eaters into the castle, your time at Hogwarts will be over. Every single student inside this place will hate you. The Professors will resent you. No-one will ever trust you again. And if you fail," she whispered, her eyes burning into his, "The Dark Lord will make you torture your own family. And then he'll kill you. You already know that." Blair reached out and placed a hand on his wrist. "Snape is protecting you by _not _helping you. He's counting on you to fail because if you succeed then _he _will die. And if you manage to get those Death Eaters into the castle in spite of that, he's going to be the one to kill Dumbledore. Not you. He's trying to save you."

"You're wrong," Draco shouted. "You're wrong! You don't know what you're talking about! You're wrong..." His voice trailed off at the end and he glanced at her, seeing nothing but honesty and understanding in her eyes. "I don't understand."

"My father wants me to help you. He wants me to make sure that you don't fail. I'm here to stop Snape from interfering."

"And how will you do that?" Draco replied with a sneer.

Blair's voice was lifeless and her eyes were sad. "I have to kill him if he tries."

Draco looked skeptical. "Isn't he your Godfather?"

"It doesn't make a difference. What my father wants, my father usually gets.

* * *

><p>Severus Snape was an unusual creature. He had become so skilled in being a double agent that even he wasn't sure which side he was truly on. The lines had become so blurred that it was a little unnerving.<p>

The arrival of the Dark Lord's daughter (and his Goddaughter, no less) had certainly put a fly in his ointment. He was still unsure as to how he should treat her. She was the child of his cousin, a child that he had bonded with when she was a baby, stood in as her father when her _real_ father was indisposed; a father who was his Lord and Master, a father who was in the process of turning the world upside down.

Her intelligence and work-ethic put Hermione Granger to shame, something which frustrated the bushy haired brunette to no end, but Blair lacked Granger's know it all attitude, something which made her much easier for her classmates to like.

It wasn't Blair's magical prowess that troubled him, no; it was that sometimes, when she looked at him, he could see the Dark Lord's eyes staring back at him. Dark pools that could hid emotion perfectly the majority of the time. But, as with all things, the facade would slip, revealing something sinister, wild, unhinged. It was almost as if Voldemort himself was in the room, coolly appraising his teaching and showing his disapproval.

There was no doubt that the girl was powerful and had the ability to grow yet _more_ powerful, quite a terrifying thought when one had witnessed firsthand who her father was.

...

Blair bit her lip. "Can I talk to you?"

"I'm busy," Snape replied briskly, gesturing to the numerous rolls of parchment that filled his desk. "Maybe another time, Miss Waldorf."

"Why are you being like this, Severus?" Blair whispered sadly. "What did I do?"

Snape avoided her eyes and his voice became colder. "Miss Waldorf, I am your Potions Professor, not your boyfriend. I would appreciate it if you would address me as such."

"You're my _godfather. _We're _family._ Why are you acting like you don't even know me?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Miss Waldorf..."

"My name is _Blair_. You've called me Blair for the past sixteen years of my life and I see no reason to call me any different when we're alone!" She said vehemently, placing a hand on her hip. "You can't even look at me, can you?"

The black haired man reluctantly raised his eyes to hers. "I can't talk now, _Blair_. I'm busy."

"No," Blair snapped back, "You're just avoiding me."

"No, I'm not."

Blair scoffed. "Then what's with the "I'm busy" thing?"

"I can't be busy?" Snape replied, rolling his eyes.

"Ah, but that's avoiding me! Saying you're busy."

Snape appraised his goddaughter for a moment. "No," he said slowly. "It is descriptive of my current state. I am busy."

Blair sighed. "Fine," she said softly, placing her own roll of parchment down on his desk. "Another time then."

She looked back at him from the doorway, sadness filling her eyes as another friend built a wall to keep her out, isolating her further.

Draco gazed across the Slytherin table at Blair, his grey eyes never leaving her face as she pushed her food around her plate. He was more than a little drunk, having shared a bottle of firewhiskey with Theo and Blaise before coming down to dinner, and the alcohol coursing through his veins made him feel warm and fuzzy and carefree.

Pansy swallowed a mouthful of food and dabbed her mouth with her napkin. "So, Blair, what're you planning on wearing tomorrow night?"

Blair sighed and laid down her knife and fork, shrugging. "Haven't decided yet."

"I'm sure that whatever you wear will look nice, B," Daphne reassured her, twisting a lock of auburn hair around her finger. "My dress is teal green."

Draco cocked an eyebrow at Blair's disinterested face and she closed her eyes. He hadn't spoken to her since their conversation in the Room of Requirement a few days ago and she was getting tired of the silent treatment.

"That sounds nice," Pansy said kindly, glancing between Blair and Draco warily.

Something over Blair's shoulder caught Pansy's eye and she scowled. Blair frowned at her. "Is there something wrong?"

Pansy's mouth twitched and she looked back at Blair. "Oh no, not really. I've just never seen Harry Potter so entranced by the back of somebody's head before."

Draco's head lifted at the mention of Harry's name and he glared across the Great Hall at the bespectacled boy. Harry stared shamelessly back and his lips narrowed into a thin line when he saw Draco's eyes sweep possessively over Blair. In spite of the fact that his girlfriend was sitting beside him, the Gryffindor felt an absolute rush of hatred towards Draco. Something deep inside Harry was screaming out to be connected to Blair, to be connected to her skin, her hair, her lips, to her very _soul_.

It was as if he had shouted her name across the Great Hall – the Slytherin brunette slowly and deliberately turned her body on the bench until her eyes were burning into his. Harry felt as if his body was electrified by lust, and Blair's heavily lidded eyes and slightly open mouth transmitted the same impression.

Until that very moment, Blair had never imagined that there could be more than one type of lust. The lust that she had felt for her ex-boyfriend had been physical and complicated, filled with rules and conditions, but _this _lust, the lust she was feeling for _Harry Potter_ (of all people) was simple and originated from an absolute desperation to be _united _with him, as if she was one half of a whole and he the other.

Daphne snapped her fingers in front of Blair's eyes and broke her gaze. Blair sharply turned her head back to her house mates and snatched up Draco's goblet of spiked pumpkin juice. She downed the drink quickly, grimacing as the vodka mixed in with the juice left a blazing trail down her throat.

"I'm going for a bath," Blair muttered, avoiding the eyes of the others at the table. She stood and grabbed her things, walking quickly from the Great Hall and down to the Slytherin common room.

There were a handful of students who were taking advantage of the peace and quiet to get some homework done and none of them bothered to glance up when she tore through the room and up the stairs to her bedroom. She slammed the door behind her and leaned heavily against it, her breath coming in hot gasps as her pulse drummed a fast rhythm in her temple.

* * *

><p>"What is it, Harry?" Blair said curiously, frowning at the bespectacled boy in front of her.<p>

Harry looked around for a moment before deciding to sit down beside her. "We need to talk."

Blair raised a bemused eyebrow. "It's about time. You've been following me for quite a while now." Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses and Blair smiled. "I didn't notice at first. But the walls have eyes and they like to gossip." She pulled her cloak more tightly around her and gazed at him. "So what do you want?"

"I don't know," Harry replied quietly. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed in frustration. "I don't know. It's like a part of me craves to be near you." His voice was strained and Blair felt a rush of sympathy for him.

Her soft fingers reached out and touched his hand. "I know," she murmured, her eyes boring into hers. "It's okay. I feel it too."

Harry let out a shaky breath and looked at her fingers resting in his palm. His eyes found hers and he twisted their hands together so that hers was clasped inside his. "I don't understand... I have a girlfriend. Well, not a _girlfriend_ exactly, but..."

"Ginny Weasley?" Blair asked with a smile.

"Yes. How did you know that?"

Blair shrugged. "I don't know." She dropped her eyes from Harry's and a faint blush coloured her cheeks. "I know how you feel though."

Harry dropped her hand like it had burned her. "Draco Malfoy?"

Blair gaped at him for a moment before she could hide her surprise. "How did you-"

"Draco Malfoy? You could have any boy in the school... why him?"

Blair smirked at him. "Oh really, Potter? _Any _boy?"

Harry flushed but pressed on. "He's a git, you know. You don't know what you're getting yourself into. His father is a-"

"Death Eater? I'm aware." Blair rolled her eyes. "Do you judge everyone, Harry, or just those people that you don't like?"

"Judge? I don't judge people... I just know that the Malfoy family is bad news."

"So... because they made different lifestyle choices than you, you have the right to hate them?" She said pointedly, her hackles rising. "Either way, Draco didn't choose his parents. You can't blame him for their decisions."

"I can blame him for being a git for the past six years," Harry argued, glaring at her. "What do you know, anyway? Voldemort killed my parents and Draco's parents do his dirty work."

Blair looked at him sadly. "I'm not disputing your right to hate the man who killed your parents, Harry. I just think it's a little unfair to hate Draco for what his parents did. If that was the case, then..." She trailed off, realising where the conversation was going. "I have to go. See you around, I guess."

"When can we talk again?" Harry asked hopefully, and Blair smiled at him.

"Hogsmeade? Next weekend?"

Harry beamed at her. "Great."

"It's a date," Blair said with a smirk, standing up.

Harry stood with her. "It's a nice change talking to somebody who doesn't want to save the world," he said with a smile.

"Anytime," Blair called over her shoulder as she made her way back towards the castle.

Neither of them saw Hermione Granger step clumsily out from behind a tree, her face red and angry.

If Harry really thought that he could go on a 'date' with this _Blair _and leave Ginny hanging, she would see to it that he would not get away with it. As much as she loved Harry, Hermione's inner feminist was out raged and determined to make him pay.

* * *

><p>"I saw them talking, Gin. They were holding hands," Hermione said quietly, squeezing her best friend's shoulder. "I'm really sorry."<p>

Ginny wiped her eyes furiously with her sleeve. "He's such a stupid git. He told me that he was falling in love with me, you know. I don't understand boys."

Hermione sighed sadly. "I know. They say one thing and act like another."

"Hermione," Ginny replied slyly, "D'you fancy a trip to Hogsmeade next weekend?"

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><p>"Professor, I'm so confused. You have to help me," Harry pleaded, tugging on his hair.<p>

Dumbledore gazed at him sympathetically, making up his mind that Harry had a right to know. "There is a reason that you feel a bond with Miss Waldorf , Harry. You are connected."

Harry stared at the Headmaster. "How?"

...

**Dun dun dun! Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Finally found the notebook that I had written the plot/dialogue ideas/scenes of this story in and decided to update. You may want to re-read the first three chapters because I've added and deleted certain things - not much, just a few things - but enough to be significant.**

Hope you like it!

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><p>Blair stood alone at the party, leaning against a window and gazing out into the black night. She glanced down at her outfit – the classic Little Black Dress, with stockings and sky high black suede heels – and sighed, adjusting the bracelet on her left wrist.<p>

She stretched out her left leg and grimaced at the inked snake that coiled itself around her left ankle, marking her foot and lower leg as well. She hated it - hated the majority of tattoos, actually - but Voldemort had insisted upon it as soon as she had turned sixteen. She could not have the Dark Mark, lest her father's true identity be revealed to the masses (or at least the fact that she was a Death Eater) but he was determined that she would have a snake marking her body _somewhere._

She groaned as she realised that her goblet was empty, and placed it down onto the window ledge with a disgusted from.

"Well, you look happy," Pansy commented quietly, looping her arm through Blair's. "What's wrong?"

Blair shrugged and finished the rest of Pansy's drink, wincing as the liquid burned her throat. "I got a letter from my father today. He wants me to visit him over Christmas."

Pansy smiled supportively. "Most people would see that as a good thing."

"But is it?" Blair replied bleakly, reaching for another goblet of alcohol. She shook the thoughts from her head. "Have you seen Draco?"

"He's sulking in a corner somewhere, I expect," Pansy said with a giggle. "Should I help you find him?"

"I'll be fine," Blair shook her head dismissively. She squeezed Pansy's hand. "Thank you, Pansy."

Pansy nodded and returned the squeeze.

...

When Blair eventually found Draco, he was reclining in an armchair, surrounded by large-breasted fifth year admirers. Blair shooed one of them off of the arm of the chair, and sat down in her place, her legs falling across Draco's. She leaned her head on his shoulder and smiled when he wound his arm behind her, pulling her down onto his lap.

The gesture was decidedly intimate, and Blair liked it.

She wound her arms around his neck and her mouth found his ear. "Are we okay?" She asked him softly, her voice concerned.

Draco eyed her, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "Kiss me and I'll let you know."

Blair lowered her lips to his and smiled against them when his fingers tangled in the hair at the base of her neck. Blair kissed him deeply, her tongue tracing along his lips until he opened his mouth. Draco's other hand pressed against the small of Blair's back, holding her to him tightly.

Her fingers toyed with the buttons of his black dress shirt, dipping beneath the material as her nails trailed along his skin. He shivered and Blair giggled into his mouth, the movement of her body making Draco stiffen.

She pulled back and raised an eyebrow, biting her bottom lip teasingly.

Draco looked over her shoulder and scowled, and when Blair followed his gaze she felt the blush heat her face. The majority of the Slytherins had gone quiet, and were staring at their little display with open mouths. "Can we help you?" Blair said haughtily, and smirked at Draco when the music instantly came back on and the noise level rose again.

She struggled from his lap and tugged him up with her. "Come on. Let's take a walk." Blair rolled her eyes at the cat-calls and wolf-whistles from Blaise and Theo, and Draco avoided their eyes.

...

They walked side by side in a comfortable silence, Draco casually taking her hand in his as if they held hands all the time. Blair glanced at him and smiled, and suddenly found herself pressed against a wall.

Draco's lips caught hers in a bruising, passionate kiss, and Blair whimpered when his lips descended on her neck. He pushed a knee between her legs, so that his were straddling one of hers.

She turned them over so that his back was to the wall, and slowly began to unbutton his shirt. Draco grasped her hands and looked her deep in the eyes.

"How much have you had to drink?" He asked her gently, brushing a piece of hair back from her eyes.

She bit her lip guiltily and then sighed. "Probably too much."

He chuckled and kissed her again, lightly this time. "Pity."

"You're telling me," She replied with a pout. "You could've taken advantage, you know. I wouldn't have minded." She looked up at him from under her lashes, her voice a sultry purr. "Come on, make my day better."

Draco let out a breath and shook his head, as if he was fighting an internal battle. "Considering that I think we could _be_ something, I don't think that's the best idea."

"We could '_be_' something?" Blair asked him teasingly, linking her arm through his as they ambled around the castle, neither of them caring that it was after-hours.

"Well, yeah," Draco replied defensively, the tips of his ears turning red. "I mean, you're a nice girl, and-"

Blair scoffed. "Just nice?"

Draco glanced at her, and, seeing her smile, poked her upper arm. "You know what I mean."

"I don't want to go back to the party," Blair said suddenly. "I haven't got the energy to act like my life isn't going up in flames."

The two teens stopped in the hallway, and Draco nodded. "We'll sit and talk, then." He pulled her to one side and made to sit on the floor, and Blair grimaced in disgust.

"Just because I'm a little drunk does not mean that you will get me sitting on a grimy floor. This dress is Chanel," she protested, folding her arms. "Besides, there is no way that I am discussing my personal problems in a place where gossip spreads faster than germs."

Draco smirked at her. "That seems very fair. Room of Requirement?"

"Too far away. Let's just sneak through the common room and go up to my dorm." Blair seemed quite pleased with her suggestion, and frowned when Draco shook his head. "What's wrong with that?"

"There are enchantments on the stairs to stop boys getting into girls' dormitories."

Blair snorted, and then blushed. "Please, Draco. Pansy showed me how to outsmart that old charm on my first day." Draco's mouth opened in outrage, but Blair quickly silenced any comments he had with a kiss. "Now, come on. We can party in private, away from prying eyes and ears that soak up information."

...

The party was quietening down by the time they arrived back in the Slytherin common room, and Draco's mouth opened wide as Blair muttered the collection of incantations that would allow him access to the girls' dormitories. He sent her a pleading glance and she scoffed in dismissal, smirking at his sulky pout.

They trudged up the stairs in silence, but Blair shrieked as covered her eyes as she unlocked her dormitory door. Draco smirked and and raised an eyebrow at Blaise, who was half-naked and hovering above an equally half-naked Pansy. Pansy shrugged - apparently too drunk to care that they had been interrupted.

"Bugger off, mate," Blaise said, leaving no room for argument.

"Where's Theo?" Draco replied, averting his eyes as Pansy's breasts were revealed as Blaise shifted.

Blaise shrugged. "Think he pulled a fifth year. Our dorm's empty tonight, as long this one," he gestured to Pansy, "Doesn't kick me out in the middle of the night."

Draco nodded gratefully. "Use protection mate!" He recoiled as Pansy pulled Blaise back down on top of her, and pulled the door closed behind them. "My dorm, then?" He said self-consciously to Blair, who was flushed a pretty pink colour.

"Yeah. Whatever."

After a long five minutes, wherein Blair removed the spells on the girls' stairs and applied them to the boys', the two teens finally found themselves outside of the bedroom that Draco shared with Theo and Blaise. "After you," he mumbled, suddenly quite shy. He pushed the door open and gestured for her to go in, and blushed when he saw the mess surrounding Theo's bed. "Sorry about the mess. Theo doesn't like to clean."

Blair coughed at the smell, but smiled politely. "It's fine."

"It isn't," Draco argued, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. "He's a pig."

"You're right," Blair replied with an admittant, friendly laugh, showing him that she wasn't bothered by the room. "It smells like feet in here. And cheese. Very romantic," she added wryly, smirking at him. She instantly guessed which bed was Draco's and, removing her shoes, climbed atop it. She patted the bed beside her. "Well?"

Draco relented and smirked at her, shaking his head. "Alcohol?" he offered her, producing two silver goblets from a drawer. He passed one to her and rummaged around in the trunk at the bottom of his bed for his selection of alcohol.

They were engraved with the Malfoy crest, and Blair sighed she traced her finger over the design. "Sure," she replied in a subdued voice, and Malfoy glanced up with a triumphant smile.

"Firewhiskey or vodka?"

Blair shrugged. "Either. Whichever is the strongest. Both. Together, preferably."

Draco whistled. "Firewhiskey it is." He climbed onto the bed and leaned against the headboard, grabbing Blair's wrist and pulling her up the bed with him. He poured Firewhiskey into their goblets and placed the bottle on the floor. She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed. "Is it really that bad?"

"My father wants me to spend Christmas with him," Blair said tiredly, taking a drink from her goblet. "I was hoping to go back to Boston... see my family, my old friends... but now I have to spend the holidays here."

"Why can't you just tell him no?" Draco wondered outloud, and blanched at Blair's disgusted scoff.

"We've already discussed this. My father is the definition of a psychopath. The word 'no' does not appear in his vocabulary."

"Ah."

Blair looked up at him, her dark eyes gazing into his. "The funny thing is, I won't be staying at my father's for Christmas. That's what I don't understand. He has this huge manor house, your typical, huge, red-brick monstrosity, and the few times when I've visited him, that's where it's always been."

"So where will you be this time?" Draco asked with a frown.

"Your house," she replied softly, a smile pulling at the edges of her lips.

Draco's mind was suddenly abuzz with thoughts. Voldemort, his most loyal supporters and their children would be staying at his family manor this Christmas - he had been aware of that since the beginning of September - but the fact that Blair's father was one of those guests meant that he was a very important Death Eater. This new piece of information narrowed the pool of suspects as to who her father was. There were many pure-blooded wizards who had concieved illegitimate children outside of their marriages, and it was possible that Blair was one of those 'bastard' children.

It was then that Draco caught sight of her left ankle. He set down his goblet and pulled her feet into his lap, consequently making her spill her drink all over her black dress.

Blair spluttered and coughed, choking on the mouthful of Firewhiskey. "Hey! Do you mind? This dress is Chanel!" She glared at him, smacking his chest hard. "Hello? Get me a towel or a wand or something!"

"Sorry," Draco replied, his tone clearly displaying that he wasn't sorry at all. "I'll buy you another one sometime." He gestured to the mark on her ankle. "You don't seem the type to have a tattoo." He leaned closer to her foot and Blair groaned, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes.

"My father insisted on it."

"Can I see it?"

Blair scoffed, opening one eye. "You have eyes."

"I mean properly." Draco had the decency to blush at the pointed look she gave him. "I wasn't trying anything like _that_..."

She cut him off with a sultry laugh. "I know, I know. I need to get out of this wet dress anyway." She bit her lip and glanced at him nervously. "Do you have a shirt I could wear or something? I'd summon something of my own, but I left my wand in Pandora's tank."

Draco smirked and shook his head. "You and your bloody snake." He gently moved her legs from his lap and rooted through the same drawers that he had produced the goblets from. He saw a shirt that he thought she would look exceptionally _amazing_ in, and pulled it from the mass of tshirts. "Is this one ok?"

He shifted a little on the spot, and Blair smirked as she appraised the shirt. "Your Quidditch jersey? Why don't you just pee on me, Draco?" She teased him, pouting when he blushed. She knelt up on the bed and pulled him towards her so their chests were pressed together, and gazed into his eyes. "It's perfect. Thank you."

Blair kissed him passionately, smiling against his lips when he wrapped his arms around her.

She leaned slowly back on the bed, pulling him down on top of her. They were just kissing, and though a part of her never intended to take it further than a kiss, her hips bucked as he kissed her neck and he groaned against her skin.

"We should stop," Draco said wisely, looking down at her flushed face and heaving breasts. He pressed a kiss to the small indentation at the base of her neck and rolled off of her, lying on his back on the bed. Blair scrambled up to change into the shirt and squealed when he patted her lightly on the bottom.

"Draco," she chastised with a smirk, pointing a finger at him. "I thought you wanted to see the tattoo?"

"I do."

Blair placed a hand on her hip. "Well then, turn around while I change."

Draco pouted playfully. "I'll cover my eyes," he offered, covering his eyes but leaving large gaps between his fingers, so he could clearly see through.

"Turn _around_," Blair demanded, poking him in the nose.

"Fine," Draco groaned mournfully, rolling over so that he was face-down on the duvet. He pressed his face into the material. "There." His voice was muffled and Blair smiled in satisfaction.

She peeled the dress from her body and shimmied out of her stockings. The corset-fit of the dess had meant that she hadn't worn a bra, so she tugged the Quidditch jersey over her head to cover her naked upper body. It fell to her upper-thighs, covering her bottom and hanging loosely on her thin frame, but Blair tugged it down a little further, just in case.

She sat down on the bed again, her back against the headboard and her feet near Draco's head. She covered her lap with a pillow and nudged Draco with one of her toes. "Ready."

He opened his eyes and rolled over warily, his mouth opening as he gazed at the smooth lengths of her perfect legs. He blinked stupidly at her and she rolled her eyes.

"You wanted to see the tattoo on my ankle."

Draco nodded, shaking the naughty thoughts from his head, and sat up. He stared at the black and green snake that wrapped itself around her ankle, the tip of it's tail half-way up the back of her calf and the head near her big toe.

The design was long and the body of the snake was about as wide as his thumb, clearly modelled after Pandora or another snake of that size. It must've been agony - taking the Dark Mark had made Draco almost pass out in pain, and that was easily less than a quarter of the size of this ink-creation.

"Did it hurt?" he asked her quietly, trailing his pointer finger up and down the arch of her foot.

She nodded, shivering as his fingers brushed the ink. "It was agony. It took seven hours. Without magic." She sighed, then, seeing Draco's expression, elaborated. "My father insisted that I have it done in a muggle-shop. Said it was character-building to experience pain on that level, and would get me prepared for future 'inflictions' of that kind."

"Ouch."

Blair smirked bitterly. "You're telling me."

"If it's any consolation, it's an incredible peice of work," Draco offered her with a small smile. "It seems to move on your skin."

"Thanks. Could you pass me my drink? I assume you've re-filled it after spilling it all over me." She batted her eyelashes at him and he bit his lip. "What?"

Draco shook his head. "You're beautiful, you know. I've never met anyone like you." He passed her the drink and picked up his own.

She held up her goblet and clinked hers with his. "I'll take that as a compliment."

* * *

><p>Voldemort stared at Lucius, his eyes revealing nothing. "And it is all arranged?"<p>

Lucius nodded. "They have all confirmed, my Lord; Van der Woodsen, Baizen, Bass, Archibald, Sparks, Yuki and Humphrey."

"And they are bringing their children? The ones who are of age?" The Dark Lord pressed, turning away from Lucius to gaze out of the window.

"Yes," Luciuis replied. "They are all coming."

"Good. I do not want my daughter to spend too much time alone over Christmas. I am sure it will do her good to see some of her old friends."

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Long gap between chapters, but this takes place the morning after the last chapter. **

* * *

><p>Draco grimaced when he woke, frowning when he realised that he was alone. A voice from the doorway startled him.<p>

"I brought you a cup of tea... There was no coffee and I don't know how you take it, so, here." Blair handed him a cup and sat down in front of him.

She was still wearing his Quidditch jersey, but had pulled on a pair of black, tight leggings to cover her legs. Her feet were bare and her toenails painted a Slytherin green, a silver snake glittering on each of her big toenails. Draco took a large drink and sighed appreciatively. "Thanks. What time is it?"

Blair shrugged. "Just after nine."

"On a _Saturday_?" Draco replied in horror.

"Yeah... I'm meeting someone in Hogsmeade at 11, so I have to go get ready. Thanks for last night... I, uh, really appreciate it." Blair said nothing of their kisses, or that she had fallen asleep in his arms after drunkenly admitting that she had a 'major crush' on him. "I'll see you later, I guess."

"Yeah," Draco mumbled awkwardly. "You're welcome."

Blair nodded and walked to the door. "I don't get you, Draco. You're not what you pretend to be." She closed the door behind her, leaving a puzzled Draco watching after her.

...

Gazing at her reflection in the mirror, Blair grimaced. She had gotten thinner in recent weeks, and her ribs and collarbone were now jutting and sharp. Her hair was perfectly curled and her makeup applied flawlessly, but beneath the stunning exterior lurked dark circles under her eyes and deathly pale skin.

She dressed in a hurry, favouring jeans and knee high boots rather than a dress and heels. She pulled on a black cashmere jumper, her black leather jacket and her Slytherin scarf, sighing at the way the waistband of her jeans sagged around her thin hips. Blair quickly found a belt and some dark sunglasses and, grabbing her favourite Louis Vuitton tote, made her way out of the Slytherin dormitories and down to Hogsmeade, where a bewildered Harry Potter was waiting for her.

...

She found him sitting alone in a cafe towards the end of the High St, sipping slowly at a steaming cup of hot chocolate. He raised his tired eyes to hers and she smiled tightly. Harry gestured for her to sit down wordlessly, and Blair raised an eyebrow when she saw that there were two cups on the table.

"I ordered for you," Harry supplied quietly, "I hope you don't mind."

Blair nodded gratefully. "That was nice of you."

"We have to talk," Harry pressed, avoiding her eyes.

"Not here," Blair replied, touching the back of his hand with her fingers. "Too many people."

Harry ran a hand through his hair and Blair shook her head. "You look like you've just rolled out of bed."

"I have," Harry mumbled. "I was up late last night."

Blair bit her lip. "Me too."

"Ginny's avoiding me," he said mournfully. "Won't even hold my hand or look at me when I try to kiss her."

"I'm not surprised," Blair commented, her voice soft and sympathetic. "Girls usually know when their other half isn't focussed on them. Women's intuition and all that."

"Is this wrong?" Harry said suddenly. "For us to be sitting here alone?"

Blair squeezed her eyes closed. "Probably." She knew full well that, should her father find out that she was 'pally' with Harry Potter, she wouldn't live to see his reaction. She drained her coffee mug in a few mouthfuls and pulled Harry to his feet. "Is there somewhere we can go? To talk?"

He nodded silently and followed her out of the cafe, guiding her towards the shrieking shack, neither of them noticing Hermione and Ginny following at an inconspicuous distance.

...

"I have to tell you something," Harry mumbled, biting his lip. His eyes seemed to harden and his body language became defensive.

Blair didn't need Occlumency to know what he was thinking. "You know, don't you?"

Harry had the decency to look embarrassed. "Dumbledore..."

"Just because I am the daughter of a psychopath does not mean that I'm going to go on a killing spree," she replied pointedly. "I'm not him, Harry. I'm not my father."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked her desperately, his anger clashing with the dire need to be connected with her. "He's a murderer, Blair."

Blair scoffed. "You don't say? I hadn't noticed."

Harry glared at her, suddenly overwhelmed with fury. "How dare you have the nerve to speak to me? Your fatherkilled my parents, Blair."

"He killed a whole bunch of other people too. Don't take it personally," Blair mumbled sadly, fiddling with her scarf.

"How can you be so blasé about it? They were real people and they had lives! Lives that Voldemort took away just because he could!"

"And he is my father!" Blair cried. "If it was your dad, you'd love no matter what he did, so don't blame me for doing the same! I didn't choose to be his child!"

"Well, of course you didn't..."

"Then realise that I am not him! I am my own person. I make my own choices. And I don't kill people." She fell to her knees in defeat. "I'm not defending what he did, what he _still _does. But you have no right to blame me for his actions. I understand how it feels to grow up without the love of your parents; Voldemort farmed me off to my aunt and uncle, and my mother died when I was born. So you see, Harry, I almost envy you."

Harry blinked at her. "You envy me?"

"You know that, were they still alive, your parents would love you no matter what. They would love you because you were their son and because they didn't need any other reason." Her voice broke and a tear slid down her cheek. "My father rewards me with love when I make him proud. His love is _conditional_. And for some pathetic reason, I need his approval to feel validated."

Harry stepped towards her to put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, Blair-"

"Don't touch me, Harry," she said stonily, rising to her feet and drawing her wand. "I've been raised to hate everything about you. You know what? _You _are the reason that I didn't have a father growing up. If you'd died that day, I wouldn't be in this position."

Harry made to draw his own wand, but Blair murmured a silent incantation and his wand was suddenly in her palm. "Do you really think my father doesn't know every little detail that you and the Order have planned? You cannot be that naive. And don't think I don't know that you're going to run to Dumbledore and tell him every word I say."

"Please, Blair-"

"How dare you say my name? How _dare_ you act like you're even on the same _level_ as me? You and your little friends think you're so clever with your patronus charms and your counter curses – it doesn't mean _anything_. When your precious Sirius died that day in the Ministry, you chose not to avenge his murder. You _chose_ to let Bellatrix walk away. You could have killed her and you didn't. You're weak. _Pathetic. _And you run around acting like you're the fucking 'golden boy'. Well – let me tell you: you're a moron, you and all of your 'heroic' Gryffindor chums. You'll never measure up to play in the same league as my father and his followers, _never_." Her voice grew quiet and it shook with an unwilling sense of fear. "My father is going to torture me within an inch of my life when he finds out that you know my secret. And I will never let you forget that it will be your fault." She threw his wand down on the floor and glared at him. "Just stay away from me."

Harry called after her, but after a little while she apparated and left him there alone.

Or so he thought, until Ginny and Hermione stepped out from behind a tree. "Wow," Hermione said in shock.

Ginny rushed to Harry and threw her arms around his shoulders. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Harry shrugged forlornly. "Wasn't my place to tell."

"So she's Voldemort's daughter?" Hermione wondered outloud.

"Yep," Harry replied, holding Ginny tightly in his arms. "And she's going to wreak havoc along with her father if she's given the chance."

Hermione nibbled at her bottom lip. "So she's a threat, then?"

"Of course she's a threat, Hermione," Ginny said instantly, shooting the brunette a look. "She's the Dark Lord's _daughter._ Weren't you listening?"

* * *

><p>Blair rushed back to the castle and down to the Slytherin common room, completely ignoring everyone who sent her odd glances as she swept through the dungeon.<p>

Draco knew immediately that something was wrong.

She didn't acknowledge him, instead leaping up the stairs two at a time, disappearing into her dorm room for a moment and then re-emerging a minute later with Pandora wrapped around her arm. This time Slytherins dove out of her path to avoid the snake, and only Draco dared to follow her.

"Blair? _Blair! _Wait!"

Blair didn't stop. "I don't have time to stand around and chat, Draco. I'm busy."

"Busy doing what?" Draco called after her in a teasing voice, realising that he was now panting in his effort to keep up with her. "Where're you going?"

"Owlery. And then to Snape."

"Snape's holding detention today," Draco supplied. "He's busy."

Blair shrugged. "Then he'll make time. This can't wait."

"Blair, slow down!"

She stopped instantly in her tracks, turning and placing a frustrated hand on her hip. "I don't have time to play nice right now. What do you want?"

"You," Draco said quietly. "Just you."

Blair sighed and rubbed her eyes. "I can't do this right now, Draco."

"I'm worried about you."

"You don't even know me!" She retorted sharply, turning away from Draco's hurt expression. "You don't know a _thing_ about me. Yeah, okay, I have 'daddy issues'. Big deal. Who the fuck doesn't? I have too much to deal with right now without having to let you down gently."

Draco's expression hardened into a glare. "I was trying to help."

It was as if he had punched her in the stomach, and she crumpled to the ground in a delicate heap. "I'm sorry," she breathed, her voice broken and her hands shaking. "I'm so sorry, Draco."

He knelt down in front of her and lifted her chin so that he was looking into her eyes. "Tell me what happened."

"I _can't_," she said in a strangled voice. Then, "Though I'm sure if you ask Potter he'll be more than happy to open his mouth."

Draco's face creased in confusion. "So you told Potter, but you won't tell me?"

"_I _didn't tell him. Dumbledore did." Draco made to press the issue, but Blair's voice was desperate and persistent. "I need to get to the Owlery, Draco."

He pulled her gently to her feet, trying to avoid the hissing snake that was wound around her body, but Blair muttered something in Parslemouth and Pandora slithered onto Draco' balancing perilously on his shoulders. Draco eyed her and Blair shrugged. "My Martial Eagle doesn't like her. Pandora bites, you know."

Draco glanced worriedly at the long snake. "You could've told me that before you let her wrap herself around me."

Blair raised an eyebrow. "Draco Malfoy, scared of a snake?" She then realised where they were, and held up a hand. "You have to wait here now."

"Why?"

"Cain doesn't like strangers," Blair said with a smile. "And he b-"

"Bites? Yeah, I could've guessed. Maybe next time you should ask for something cuddly," Draco mumbled, shooing her away.

...

Blair hastily scribbled a note and tied it around her Martial Eagle's leg, allowing the beautiful bird to affectionately peck her finger before she walked to the window. Holding out her arm, Blair couldn't stop a single fearful tear from escaping from her treacherous right eye.

She took a deep breath and watched Cain fly off towards Malfoy Manor. "Forgive me, father, for I have sinned."

* * *

><p>When Blair eventually returned, she was surprised to find Pandora curled quite comfortably around Draco's left arm, and smiled a little when she noticed him tracing a finger along her scales.<p>

Draco tried to pass the snake back to her, but Blair shook her head and Pandora simultaneously hissed. "Sorry," Draco mumbled. "Bloody women."

Blair sighed. "I am sorry. About before."

"Blair, I'm a Slytherin, not an arty-farty Hufflepuff. I make no apologies about being an insensitive bastard – it's in my blood. Forget about it." Draco smirked at her and Blair nodded.

"If you say so."

"So, where to now?" Draco asked.

"Snape."

...

She knocked loudly on the door and narrowed her eyes when Snape peered his head around the wood. He glanced at Draco and then stepped out into the corridor.

"Miss Waldorf, Mr Malfoy... To what do I owe the _pleasure_?" His lip curled as he said the final word, clearly showing that he was more annoyed than anything else. There was nothing Snape enjoyed more than a seventh year detention and the fact that these two sixth years had disturbed his favourite pastime had irked him.

"Potter knows," Blair said quietly, squeezing her eyes closed when Snape's mouth fell open in shock.

"You are sure?"

"Heard it from the horses mouth."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "From whom?"

"Dumbledore," she whispered, completely aware of how dire the situation had become.

"_Legilimens!" _From nowhere, Snape had drawn his wand and watched her encounter with Harry in the forest for himself. He stepped backwards from her when it was over, looking her up and down in shock.

"What?" Draco asked, "What did you see, Professor?"

"You _stupid_ girl," Snape hissed at her, completely ignoring Draco. "Obviously the Headmaster will now be aware that _you_ are aware of your parentage and will be asking to see you in his office within the next hour. You have to get away from here before you destroy _everything _that we have worked for."

"_How dare you trespass into my thoughts, Severus!" _Blair hissed at him, and Draco took a hasty step back as Pandora suddenly untangled her coils from his arm and dropped to the floor, hissing menacingly at their Head of House. "You go too far!"

Draco could only stare.

But Snape did not react in the way that he would have imagined. "You have to leave school." He placed a comforting hand upon Blair's shoulder. "You have no other option. Within hours, the ministry will be here to collect you. You will be imprisoned and questioned. You are too valuable a commodity. Not to mention an ideal bargaining tool."

Blair laughed bitterly. "A 'bargaining tool'? The Ministry really think that he'd give up everything just to save my life? Clearly they have underestimated his cruelty."

Snape pulled a face and patted her shoulder again. "We must leave immediately, before the Headmaster remembers that the fireplace in my office is still connected to the Floo network."

"Don't I have time to say goodbye?" Blair said desperately, her eyes flickering to Draco.

"No." Snape's tone left no room for argument. "Though, if I were you, I would prepare yourself fully for your father's wrath."

"What's going on?" Draco asked, "Why do you have to leave?"

"I'm not afraid of pain," Blair replied. "What more can he do to me now but kill me? I'm too useful for him to kill."

"Come, Blair, we must take haste," Snape insisted.

They made an odd threesome rushing towards Snape's office. And then Draco stepped in front of his two companions (three, counting the snake) and held up a hand to stop them.

"_Will somebody tell me what the fuck is going on?" _He demanded, glaring between the two of them.

Tears fell freely now from Blair's eyes, but she ignored them. "I have to leave this place," she said in a broken whisper. "It's too dangerous for me to stay."

"Inside," Snape hissed, ushering them both into his office. "Quickly!" He dashed into his store cupboard to find his Floo Powder.

Blair pulled Draco towards the fire place and gazed into his eyes. "You'll find out soon enough. But I cannot be the one to tell you." Draco nodded silently, brushing his thumb across Blair's cheek. She leaned into the touch and her bottom lip trembled. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"But, I'll see you soon, won't I?" Draco wondered, "At Christmas?"

A small sob shook Blair's body. "I don't know," she whispered. "I don't know what's going to happen."

"Don't leave," he begged her, peppering her face with kisses. "Stay. Please. We'll figure it out."

Blair pulled the ruby ring off of her pointer finger – the ring that had been her mother's – and slipped it onto Draco's pinkie finger. She leaned forwards to whisper into his ear. "I want you to remember me as I was last night. Forget this weeping mess that I am now. Remember me in my designer dress and killer heels, not broken and terrified."

"You're more beautiful now than you have ever been," Draco insisted, unaware of where these strong feelings were coming from. "Write to me," he pleaded. "I beg you."

"I will try," Blair said quietly, closing her eyes as Draco pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

And then she was gone. Gone into the fire, to Malfoy Manor via Snape's home in Spinner's End.

"I'm falling in love with you," Draco whispered into the empty room, falling to his knees. "I'm falling in love with you."

* * *

><p><strong>Oh ho ho! Big changes! The cat's out of the bag and Blair's in big trouble with Daddy V! I know that Blair and Draco's relationship changed rather drastically in this chapter, but somehow I think it works. <strong>

**Hope you liked it. Reviews are loved x**


	6. Chapter 6

**WARNING – THIS IS A DARK CHAPTER.**

...

Blair closed her eyes and tried to ignore the ache in her bones. She pressed herself into the cold floor, trying to disappear into oblivion.

The pain was excruciating.

Angry red welts covered the skin of her back. Deep cuts covered her arms. Her nails were cracked and dirty, her face swollen. Her eyes stung from holding back tears – because she daren't cry where her father could see. Her lips were split and bloody, her jaw fractured in two places.

She felt pathetic. Lying there alone on the floor in the Malfoy kitchen, her blood dried into a dirty crust on her skin.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Blair was vaguely aware of a warm, damp cloth dabbing her face, and the kind tones of Narcissa Malfoy's soft voice reassuring her that she would be fine.

To say that her father had reacted badly to the news that their secret was out was an understatement.

He had pressed his wand to her neck and tortured her, and when magic couldn't break the hard shell of his daughter, he had resorted to physical violence in the form of a big, black stick. He had demanded that the Death Eaters that were present stay and watch her punishment, so that they could truly witness just how cruel he could be – even to his own flesh and blood.

And so Blair laid there, cold and shivering on the polished floor, battered, bruised and broken, longing for grey eyes to make her smile.

...

"How is she?" Lucius whispered to his wife, guiding her away from the mass of people gathered around the Dark Lord.

"Healing," Narcissa replied softly. "Slowly, mind, but she's healing." Narcissa squeezed her eyes closed. "I can't do this anymore, Lucius. He tortured his own _child. _Without remorse. That kind of depravity has no place amongst civilised people. I don't want them here anymore."

As a stray tear slipped from the eye of his wife, Lucius reached out and brushed it away. "No tears, my love. Draco will be home from school soon; that will ease your conscience."

Narcissa glared at her husband and pushed his hands off of her. "You speak of your son as if you had not enslaved him to the same man who gladly hurt his own daughter. I want them gone, Lucius. All of them."

"Narcissa-"

"No, Lucius, no. For fifteen years I've stood by and watched you harbour an obsession with power. You endanger my life and the life of your son by allowing them to stay in our home. I will not stand by and let him hurt Blair again – the death of our own daughter at his hands was enough." Her voice shook as she remembered little Luciana Malfoy, the baby who had been stillborn because of her mother and father's immersion in the Dark Arts. The curses had poisoned the child in Narcissa's womb and had since prevented the Malfoy's from conceiving. "Too many people have died for one man's pride. No more, Lucius. Not under my roof."

Lucius nodded slowly. "Fine, fine. I'll request that they leave as soon as the Christmas celebrations are over. Just, no more tears. For Draco's sake."

Narcissa shook her head, her eyes shining. "Tell me Lucius," she murmured softly, "Are you a man or a mouse?" Before he could answer, she backed away from him, making her way back to the damaged teenage girl that was laid on her kitchen table.

She pressed a hand to Blair's head, breathing deeply when she felt the significant drop in temperature. "She can be moved now," Narcissa instructed to the Carrow twins. "Slowly, gently."

"Where'll she go, Narcissa? Which bedroom?" Alecto asked, lifting Blair into his arms.

"Draco's room," Narcissa replied. "She'll be safe there."

"Here," Bellatrix mumbled from the corner of the room, gazing emotionlessly at Blair's still body. "Her wand."

Narcissa smiled tightly at her older sister. "Thank you."

...

Blair grimaced and raised a hand to her forehead, shuddering when she felt the gash there. She looked around the room. From her memories of the torture, she knew that she was probably still in Malfoy Manor, but whereabouts within the manor she had no idea. Her left eye was swollen almost completely shut, but she was able to see quite clearly from her right.

Wincing, Blair pulled herself from the warm bed and pressed a hand to her ribcage – from the dull ache that rested there, she knew that they were badly bruised, perhaps even broken – flinching at even the light touch of her thin fingers.

The room she was in belonged to a male, though only one Quidditch poster hinted at the gender of the room's owner. It was minimalistic-chic, much like Blair's own room, and she felt safe there.

Well, as safe as she could be with a maniacal Father just a floor beneath her.

Her eyes filled with tears as she pulled back the sleeves of her black cashmere jumper. Her arms were scratched and bruised, the pale and previously unmarred skin now blemished and ugly. She sniffed at the sleeve of her jumper and flinched at the smell – clearly it had been a few days since Saturday and nobody had dared change her clothes.

As she glanced around the room, Blair realised gratefully that the mirrors had been covered. Good. Her face felt hideous, her hair was lank and greasy, hanging in untidy clumps around her marked cheeks.

Her hands stung, her legs ached and, more than anything, she just wanted a bath.

Blair noticed a woollen dressing-gown hanging on a hook on the back of the bedroom door, and she pulled it on, hoping that the robe's owner wouldn't mind her borrowing it for a moment or so. She opened the French windows and stepped onto the balcony into the night air, squeezing her eyes closed and covering her mouth with her grazed palms. She pressed herself back against the brick wall, desperately fighting back the salty tears that brimmed in her eyes.

This was her fault.

How had it come to this?

Once upon a time, she had been a happy child, just satisfied with smiles and kind words from her beloved Daddy, and now, her Father had become her abuser.

It was almost sickening, the way she was able to separate the two separate personalities of her sperm donor. She couldn't call this _monster _her Dad; her Dad would never hurt her, would never disturb a hair on her pretty little head, and yet her Father was perfectly able to maim her without batting an eyelid.

And yet she loved him.

Loved the man who broke her bones, made her bleed, and blamed her for her flaws.

Loved him so desperately and so unconditionally that she didn't care what he did to her. She would gladly be tortured a thousand times, just to hear him say that he loved her _just once._

How had it come to this?

How had the adults around her allowed this to happen?

She sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself as she tried to stop herself from breaking into pieces. Everything had been going so perfectly, and _she _had messed it all up by giving in to what the ruby ring wanted and spending time with Harry-fucking-Potter.

She rubbed her thumb self-consciously over her pointer finger and gasped, her eyes opening in shock.

The ring. Where was it? If she was hurting now, this pain would be nothing compared to the absolute horrors that her Father would inflict once he learned that a slice of his soul was missing from her finger.

_Oh, God._

She had given the ring to Draco.

Draco Malfoy, the only boy in the entire world who just might be her escape from the world of depravity and madness that had somehow surrounded the both of them. And she had just endangered his life by putting the ring on his finger.

Blair had long since known that it was a Horcrux, of course she had. She dark whispers and the chilling threats – in her Daddy's own voice, nonetheless - had frightened her at first, but as soon as she was old enough her darling Daddy had explained diligently to her that the ring contained a very special part of himself, a part of his very soul.

He had manipulated her. Even then, as a six year old child, her Father had made her wear the thing around her neck on an expensive chain of silver, ensuring that she – it's protector – was near it at all times.

When her fingers were thick enough he had insisted she wear it and _never_ take it off. On pain of death.

And now, she had given it to Draco.

She wailed and covered her face with her hands.

* * *

><p><em>Son, <em>

_Everything is being re-evaluated. Plans have gone awry. It is His wish that you abandon your task immediately. You are to tell none of this to Snape – he has been turned against us and will soon feel the breath of vengeance upon him. _

_Draco, you must return to the Manor as soon as you are able. I have written to Professor Dumbledore, and he has agreed to excuse you from classes until term recommences in January, though I doubt that you will be returning to Hogwarts at all. _

_Burn this._

_L. Malfoy_

...

Draco crumpled the letter in between his hands and shook his head. This was something to do with Blair. It must be.

"Y'all right, mate?" Blaise asked curiously, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder.

Draco flinched and shrugged. "I'm going home."

"But, it's only November," Pansy protested, perching herself on Blaise's lap. "We have two weeks of lessons left before Christmas break."

"Father's orders."

"Bad luck, mate," Theo chipped in synpathetically. "We're playing Hufflepuff next week. Would've been a definite win with you as Seeker."

The other members of the Slytherin Quidditch team sighed in disappointment, each of them knowing that the arty-farty Puffters would make things particularly difficult for them without Draco on their team. But at the same time, they also knew that Draco could not refuse a direct order from his father.

Those close to him knew of the Mark that was burned on Draco's left forearm.

"Will you be coming back?" Pansy asked quietly, concern shining in her green eyes.

Draco shrugged again. "Unlikely."

"You miss her, don't you?" Daphne murmured, her voice soft and gentle. She placed an hand on Draco's arm and sighed. "We all do, Drake. But you heard the rumours. She's dangerous. And she lied to us all."

Draco slammed his fist on the table, his temper flaring at the mention of Blair. "I've had it up to here with the fucking gossips in this school!" He stood and glared around the Great Hall, his eyes settling on Snape for a moment and narrowing. The space fell silent, and the majority of the eyes of the student body swivelled to him and his angry outburst. "You're all pathetic. Each and every-single-fucking-one of you. Nobody chooses who their parents will be – Merlin knows I didn't. And I don't give a fuck what any of you think," Draco declared, sticking up his middle finger to nobody in particular, before marching from the Great Hall.

The heavy oak doors slammed behind him, and the Hall erupted in whispers. Only Harry was silent, staring as Snape pushed his chair back and bellowed at the top of his lungs.

"That is ENOUGH," their Potion's master demanded. "Enough."

He followed Draco's lead, storming from the room in a dramatic cloud of black. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Pass the croissants, would you, Ginny?"

...

Flinging items into his trunk, Draco scowled as his dormitory door flew open. "That was quite a display," Snape said in an emotionless tone.

"Piss off," Malfoy growled at him. "Not in the bloody mood."

Rather than admonishing him, as one would of expected, Snape sighed and leaned against the doorway. "So, what're you going to do now?" Severus sneered, his lip curling. "You're going to run after her like a pathetic little lap-dog? She's my god-daughter, Draco, I know her. She doesn't care about you."

Draco suddenly stilled in his movements, and launched himself at his Potions teacher. Holding the older man against the wall by his robes, Malfoy growled at him. "Don't you _fucking _dare. Don't you _fucking dare_ and tell me what I feel for her isn't real, you arrogant, cowardly bastard. Run back to Dumbledore and hump his leg, why don't you? Your secret's out. They know you've been running back and forth with a spoon in your hand. And now that neither side wants you, you're stuck in the middle with nobody to protect you."

Snape pushed Draco away and straightened his robes, his black eyes flashing. "You know not to who you speak, boy."

"Fuck you," Draco spat. "You knew everything that the Dark Lord was doing to Blair and you fucking stood there and let him do it. You could've protected her and you didn't."

Much to Draco's surprise, a single tear dripped down the elder man's cheek. "I know," Snape whispered in reply. "I know."

Draco slammed his trunk closed and patted his pocket, ensuring that the ruby ring in its little silken pouch was still safely there. "Shift. My father's expecting me."

"Right," Snape replied rather awkwardly, stepping to the side without a fight. "Tell her... Tell her that I'm sorry."

"Right," Draco said curtly. "I'll be off." His eyes flickered empathetically to Snape. "I'm sorry too, Severus," Draco admitted, reaching out a hand and patted Snape once on the shoulder. "I hope we will meet again." Even as he said it, Draco knew that this was a near-impossibility. Voldemort didn't take kindly to traitors.

"Indeed," was Snape's soft reply, and Draco thumped his trunk down the stairs, through the now student-filled Slytherin common room, and towards Snape's office.

* * *

><p>Blair winced as Narcissa pulled a brush through her hair, biting her lip at the pain of the pressure on the lumps on her head.<p>

Other than the life-threatening injuries, Voldemort had not allowed Blair's wounds to be treated. Her cuts and bruises and broken bones remained, healing slowly.

"Draco is returning from school," Narcissa said quietly, in an effort to break the silence. "He should be home soon. You'll have some company for a while, then."

Blair stiffened and moved away from the Malfoy witch. "What? Draco? He's coming _here?"_

Narcissa smiled. "Yes."

"He can't," Blair replied in a strangled voice. "He can't see me like this." She closed her eyes and tried to hold back a fresh batch of tears. "Does he know that I'm here?"

"No," Narcissa murmured in concern, glancing at the clock in the corner of the room. "But he will be home in the next hour, and I imagine his father will inform him."

Blair let out a strangled cry. "I can't see him, Narcissa. Please. Don't let him see me like this." The teenage girl sank to the floor in a crumpled heap. "I miss him, Narcissa."

Rather than scoff (as her Father would have done) the kind Mrs Malfoy knelt on the floor beside Blair and smoothed her hair back from her forehead. "He mentioned you in his letters to me, you know," Narcissa soothed. "You were all he could talk about."

Blair sniffed softly and sighed, shaking her head. "He can't see me like this."

"Get up, Blair," a voice spoke from the doorway, and the two women on the floor whipped their heads around.

Blair leaped to her feet and stared at the dirty, bare feet of her Father. He stepped forwards into the bedroom and swept her freshly-washed curls away from her porcelain skin, placing a palm on either cheek. Blair closed her eyes, trying not to flinch as his rancid breath washed across her face. "Look at me," he hissed, his nails digging into her cheeks. "Look at me, girl."

Reluctantly, Blair opened her eyes and stared at the man who had inflicted so much damage.

"Out, Narcissa," Voldemort ordered, and Narcissa could only glance helplessly at Blair and scurry to the door. "Close the door behind you."

Narcissa closed Draco's bedroom door with a soft click and let out a choked sob as she heard the lock in the door click closed. She hadn't locked the door – _Voldemort had._

Pressing her ear to the door, Narcissa held her breath.

...

Voldemort licked his lips and gazed hungrily at his daughter. "Precious," he cooed, "It's me, your Dad."

Blair shook her head and backed away from him, suddenly terrified of the lust in his eyes. "No," she whispered. "Not this."

"Blair," her father whispered in admonishment, grasping her bathrobe in his long fingers. "Don't you want to make me happy?"

Narcissa blanched at the blood-curdling scream that Blair let out, then, and opened her mouth in shock when she heard Blair's voice.

"Get out," Blair hissed at her father, her wand pointed at him. "Get out, now."

"You wouldn't dare," Voldemort challenged her, a lecherous glint in his flat, black eyes. "Drop it."

"I said, _get out_," Blair screamed. "Get out, snake!"

Voldemort took a step in Blair's direction.

"Crucio!" Blair cried desperately, a wave of guilt washing over her as Voldemort hunched over, writhing in pain. She left the curse on for mere seconds, but it was clearly enough to stop her Father in his tracks. He glared at her, his pointed teeth clenched in fury. He took another, defiant step, and Blair closed her eyes. "Sectumsempra."

This spell, though it did not cause as much pain as the curse she had used previously, did considerably more damage. A long gash appeared down Voldemort's torso – as if he had been gutted, like a fish – and he cried out in pain, but rather than spurting out as it should have done, his blood oozed from the gash like tar.

He sneered at her in contempt, but was unable to hide his admiration of her bravery. Nodding his head once, Voldemort narrowed his eyes at his only child. "Until next time," he murmured at her, looking her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl. He magically unlocked the door and growled at Narcissa Malfoy who was standing on the landing a little way down, folding towels. "Let Draco see her first, Narcissa, _then_you can heal her." He smiled cruelly and descended down the stairs.

Narcissa waited until Voldemort had retreated to his lair in the dungeons before she ran in to console Blair.

To her surprise, the teenage girl was sat on the floor, cross legged, calm and staring at her broken fingernails. "Did he..." Narcissa trailed off, unable to speak of the horror that Voldemort had threatened.

"No," Blair said, her voice as dead. Narcissa reached out to touch her, but Blair flinched away before she could. "He keeps trying," Blair confessed in a whisper. "The physical torture hurts, but it is bearable." She closed her eyes. "But I fear I will never recover if he succeeds in this new way of punishment." Narcissa's mouth fell open in horror as Blair coldly exaggerated. "My darling father keeps trying to rape me," the teenage girl spat out, clenching her fists. "And he will succeed eventually. I cannot fight forever."

Narcissa could only pull Blair into her arms, and this time she did not struggle. Blair held back her tears, but Narcissa did not. Mrs Malfoy sobbed for them both – for Blair and Draco and the horrors that their wretched master was making them endure.

* * *

><p>Draco dropped his trunk on the floor in disgust and brushed the Floo powder off of his hands. "Father? Mother? Where are you?"<p>

* * *

><p>I know this was a really dark chapter. What do you think?<p> 


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